Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from South Sudan and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Masters at Work to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by D'Angelo. All the underground hits.
All The Associates tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Mummies,
Ultra Naté,
Faust,
Aural Exciters,
The American Breed,
The Shadows of Knight,
Supertramp,
New York Dolls,
Nas,
Aaron Thompson,
Letta Mbulu,
Jeff Mills,
The Toasters,
Howard Jones,
Max Romeo,
Charles Mingus,
Soulsonic Force,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Dirtbombs,
One Last Wish,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
PIL,
Radio Birdman,
The Pop Group,
The Litter,
Carl Craig,
Dennis Brown,
Bobbi Humphrey,
D'Angelo,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Move,
Thompson Twins,
Shuggie Otis,
Kerrie Biddell,
Arthur Verocai,
Moss Icon,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Searchers,
These Immortal Souls,
Grey Daturas,
Robert Görl,
Goldenarms,
Funkadelic,
Toni Rubio,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Technova,
Eve St. Jones,
Television Personalities,
Von Mondo,
Laurel Aitken,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Cal Tjader,
Duran Duran,
Kevin Saunderson,
Skriet,
The Walker Brothers,
David Axelrod,
Girls At Our Best!,
Cheater Slicks,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.